Date: Sun, 2 Mar 2003 14:59:01 -0800 (PST)
From: Jason USA
Subject: Rent Matthew - Part IX
Alex confronts Matthew about his sister. The college kid drops by his
professor's office for a surprise visit. Jose's jealously gets out of
hand.
Rent Matthew -- Part IX
jason99usa@yahoo.com
Alex and Matthew were close. They had known each other since they were
kids, and their personalities complimented one another. Even their good
looks were a match. While Matthew never took advantage of his friend, it
was understood that he would always look out for Alex. Trust was the basis
of their friendship. This is why it was so difficult for Matthew to tell Alex
about his involvement with Sarah. They were finally on good terms, and he
didn't want to spoil it. But secrets have a way of getting out.
When Matthew had believed it to be safe, it wasn't. Alex finds out about
Matthew's tryst with his sister and he comes over to confront the person he
thought he could trust. Matthew opens the door to an angry friend.
"You fucking asshole!" shouts Alex, as he storms in and throws his fury at
Matthew, one fist after the other. "How could you do that to my sister!"
Alex launches himself onto Matthew, taking his enemy down with him. The
two wrestle with each other, Matthew trying to block the attacks while Alex
swinging his hardest and making contact. Painful, hurtful words foam out of
Alex's mouth. He wanted to hurt the person who had deceived him.
Matthew had gotten involved with sister, and that was inexcusable.
Moments later and out of breadth, the two separate. Matthew looked at his
friend, who looked away.
"I'm sorry, Alex," apologizes Matthew. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have
gotten Sarah involved."
"I don't believe you," replied Alex. He spoke calmly, without feelings or
emotions, like he was still upset and would be for a while.
For the next several minutes, the two don't speak to each other. For
Matthew, it was agony. How could his friend ever trust him again? He
should have been upfront with Alex from the beginning, instead of beating
around the bush. He should have deflected Sarah. But he didn't. Mathew
looked at Alex for some kind of sign. But he only saw sadness in his
friend's eyes.
"Sarah's had the biggest crush on your since grade school," continued Alex.
"I know it wasn't your fault. I just wished it was me."
"What are you saying?"
"I wished it was me, Matt," replied Alex. "I'm sorry." Alex looked away,
avoiding the inevitable.
Matthew was bruised from the attack, but his main concern was to reassure
his friend. "It's alright. I'm OK."
"You're hurt," said Alex, as he noticed the bruise on Matthew's forehead.
"I'm sorry, Matt." Alex examined the swelling with his fingers, assessing
the damage.
In his moment of anger, he had hit his friend, and that made him feel guilty.
But it was more his jealously that powered his zeal. Tracing the shape of the
wound, Alex glanced at his friend. And the look he got back made him both
happy and sad. Matthew didn't hate him, Matthew was on his side. As he
watched Matthew in interest, he felt reassured, like salvation was in trusting
his friend. And when the set of blue eyes stared back at him, there was trust
and something else in them.
But when Matthew tried to speak, his lips were engulfed by Alex.
Alex had been Matthew's best friend since he was a kid, and never once had
the thought of making out with him crossed his mind. Alex was a handsome
kid, but he was more a loyal companion than anything. Yet the most
unexpected was occurring. Soft lips melted into his.
Sensuous, it was not what he expected. Alex's hands held him, while urgent
lips traced his skin, almost fighting to taste him. Every touch was followed
by a kiss, every time his skin was sucked, it was followed by some insistent,
pleading moan. And for a moment, Mathew was caught up in it, struggling
to explore the unknown. Except the other person wasn't a hot girl, but his
best friend. The moment he realized the what was actually happening,
Matthew pushed Alex away.
"I'm sorry," apologized Alex.
"It's OK," said Matthew. "I'm sorry about your sister. Don't be upset at
her." His cautious eyes caught Alex and looked away, as he felt unsure
about himself.
"I know she cares about me. I won't hold a grudge against her."
The numbing pain shot back into the bump on his forehead. And although
he felt he deserved losing the fight with Alex, he was somewhat pissed his
friend had hit him so hard. What Matthew did next he later regretted. It was
the wrong time and place to bring it up, but he wanted to know, so asked,
"What happened to you after I left for Europe?"
Matthew met silent, and the two did not exchange words for the next few
minutes. It was an inappropriate question, but it was also an important one.
While Alex avoided his eyes, Matthew looked directly at him, waiting for
some hint of what he could do for his friend.
"I thought I was straight, Matt. I thought I was normal all my life," began
Alex, as a grim look went across his face. "But I wasn't. I guess deep down
I've always known I wasn't."
As tears ran down the side of his face, looping into the side of his mouth,
Alex continued his story. Matthew tried to comfort him, but Alex only
pushed him away, distancing himself away from the other.
"When you left, I was so lonely. I didn't know who I was anymore. So I
felt I had to find out.
The first place I went to was a gay bar. Deep under the basement cellar, I
met a man that would later change my life. I guess he sensed right away I
was an easy target. He bought me a few drinks, and got me loaded. We
ended up at his place that night.
I told him I'd never been with anyone before. He laughed and told me not to
worry, that he would soon take care of that. I guess I should have known
better at the time, but I didn't. My first time with him was nothing but
gentle. To him, I was just another piece of meat, and he treated me that way.
I was such a fool to come back. He was surprised himself, but that didn't
stop him from taking advantage of me. He made me do things I didn't want
to do, slapping me when I did something wrong, kicking me, seeing how I
would react. That was how he liked it, rough. Seeing fear in my eyes got
him off, and he made sure I understood his control over me.
I was afraid of him, and I didn't know who to tell, who I could trust. Every
time I'd come to see him, he became more and more demanding. He blamed
me for being gay, he said I made him want me. It was a sin, he said, and I
would have to pay. He'd tied me and fuck me, like I belonged to him.
Then one day his wife walked in on us. They argued for what seemed
forever, and then she packed her things and walked out on him. When he
got back, he didn't give me an explanation, he just beat me until he I lost
consciousness, and then again until I lost feeling. I barely got away, and I
never came back.
But as much as I had disliked being treated like shit, I thought I deserved it.
I was an outcast in God's eyes, a black sheep. I couldn't stop my myself, so
even after I left him, I continued to search for sex. Restrooms, public parks,
I didn't care. Any place would do as long as it was with strangers, as long as
they could take the pain away. I had become the town slut.
And then I was caught red-handed. I was at a rest-stop and I met this truck
driver. While he was banging me senseless, a highway patrol officer walked
in on us. It was the worse thing that could have happened. My father had to
come get me, and the town found out.
If my life hadn't been bad, it only got worse. I came out to my family that
night. My mom was so depressed. She didn't blame me, she protected me
against my father's accusations. I heard the screams the night before he left.
I heard him say he was ashamed I was his son. Better to have left me in jail
with the other homosexuals, than to have me live under the same roof. He
wanted me out on the streets, but my mom refused. So he left. He never
said goodbye.
Even my sister was affected. Sarah was one of the most popular girls in
school, and then I fucked up and she had to pay for it. Boys stopped calling.
The kids at school spray-painted "queer" on her locker. It wasn't fair to her,
she was just a teenager.
There were other things they did to us. Rocks going through our windows in
the middle of the night. People looking the other way, avoiding us,
whispering about me and my shame.
I had no one on my side, I had no one to go to, so I did what I thought was
best for my family. I tried to commit suicide by overdosing, and I failed. I
was so stupid, Matt. I couldn't even kill myself properly."
Matthew had listened without interrupting his friend. Anger, fear, and
sorrow were all expressions that played across his face, contorting him from
the inside-out. His best friend's pain became his, and he took it hard. Alex
fought him, but Matthew persisted. He went for Alex, swinging his arms
around him, embracing what was left of a spirit who had died. Alex was a
wreck, and so was he.
"Why didn't you call, Alex? Why didn't you let me know!"
"I couldn't, Matt. I was so ashamed."
"What about Cathy, Jimmy, Rob, Jonathon, all our friends?"
"After they found out, they wouldn't speak to me. I don't deserve you,
Matt."
"No, don't say that. Don't you fucking say that!" foamed Matthew.
"Sometimes, I feel I don't deserve you. I can't believe anyone would want
to hurt you. I can't believe those bastards I thought were my friends didn't
come to you when you needed them most. I can't believe your father did
that to you and your family."
"But I deserved it. It's because of me that he left my mom and sister."
"No! You listen to me, Alex. You are wrong," forced Matthew, as he held
his friend by the collar, trying to shake some sense into him. "Your father
leaving you and your family has nothing to do with you. It has all to do with
him and his lack of self-confidence. He needs to work out his issues. They
have nothing to do with you."
"Matt, how can I believe that?" questioned Alex. He tried to avoid his
friend's look, but Matthew held his face, preventing him from looking away.
"Because it's true."
Tears began to fill his eyes and overflow from them, taking the weight Alex
had carried with him for more than half a year. As he looked at his friend, as
Matthew looked back at him, he felt self-conscious. He felt dirty in
comparison to Matthew.
And before Alex had a chance to move away, Matthew's lips pressed
slightly against his. He wanted to cry but the tongue inside broke his
concentration. Like two doves outdoing one another in the sky, the two
make out for the second time that day.
Slower than before, they explore one another. Somewhat urgent and
insistent, their mouths trace the other. Testing, tentative, their behavior
becomes more permanent, like they were meant for each other. They French
kiss, colliding, embracing, pleading for more. Swapping their insides, they
become one in the exchange. For a moment, there was only two people in
the world, only two that mattered. Yet Matthew couldn't quite accept it, and
for the second time that day, he pushed Alex away.
"I think you better go, Alex."
"Okay." Swapping spit with his best friend was what dreams were made of.
Matthew was an amazing kisser. Alex now understood what all the
commotion was about, what they all whispered about, the girls that had been
with Matthew.
"Will you be alright?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Are you sure?" asked Matthew. He was genuinely concerned for his friend.
He didn't want Alex to leave, yet he didn't think it was wise to be near him
either.
"Yeah."
Matthew came over to his friend, held him in a tight embrace, and
whispered, "I love you, Alex."
"Me too."
"I'll give you a call tomorrow," said Matthew, as his hand found his friend's
shoulder. He firmly squeezed it. "Please wait for my call."
Matthew immediately regretted the kiss. He should have done it out of love,
not pity. Alex needed him, not some phony pretending to like him. He was
ashamed of himself for misleading his best friend, a person he wanted to be
around with for the rest of his life.
At the same time, he felt sorrow and anger. How could anyone take
advantage of Alex? He wanted to find out who the guy was that abused
Alex. He wanted to give the guy a taste of his own medicine, beat the shit
out of him. And his so called friends. Where were they when Alex needed
them? He hated every one of them. Friends don't abandon one another
because of one's sexual orientation. Friends stick together.
* * * * *
Alex needed his help. And Matthew didn't know how to deal with it.
Giving his body to his best friend wouldn't solve anything. Now that he
knew what Alex had gone through alone, he wished he had never gone to
Europe. He should have been there for his Alex, he should have stayed.
Matthew decided that whatever it took, whatever he had to do, he'd take care
of Alex. In the meantime, however, there was someone else he had to take
care of.
Matthew shows up at Professor Hubbard's office unexpectedly. What drove
him there, what impelled him to come, he couldn't quite articulate himself.
He had had a great time with his teacher at the beach, but he felt something
was missing, and he came to find out what it was.
The soft knock on his door was too soft to catch his immediate attention, but
the kid's swift movement into his office and the subsequent closing and
locking of his door got him to look up from his work. Though he was
pleased to see who it was, he had a lot of work to do.
"Matthew, what are you doing here?" Professor Hubbard's eyes followed
his student's body, deliberately examining the kid's crotch and face.
The two looked at each other in silence. Like his professor, had the kid had
male model type qualities. Handsome and fit, the two were on the same side
of the gene pool.
Matthew felt words weren't necessary as he moved toward his professor. He
looked at his teacher and the look he got back acknowledged what he
already knew. On his own free will, he pulled his shirt off and tossed it to
the side. His gesture pleased his professor, but the look of determination on
his face searched for something else.
Professor Hubbard looked at the kid, taking in the slim body, a hard chest
rising and falling as the kid caught his breath. It was a nice strip show, and
his student's brash behavior made it more risky.
Matthew moved closer and dropped to his knees. He looked up, and as they
exchanged looks, the two communicated non-verbally. The kid was there
for one reason, and for one reason only, to please his teacher in the worse
way. With a body like that, he would get what he wanted.
"You don't have to do this."
But it was too late. The kid had already started to unzip the older man's
pants. And when he had managed to release the monkey, Matthew stared at
the shaft in front of him. It was big.
Professor Hubbard wanted the kid. This was payback for the restraint and
control he demonstrated the last time they were together. Matthew's hard
body flexed with his efforts, and that pleased his teacher.
As his tongue licked the length of the cock, Matthew felt how hot and
throbbing it had become. It had a unique taste to it, half intoxicating, half
masculine. He followed the length of it from tip to base, and then back up.
At the same time, the kid felt his teacher's chest and six pack.
Slowly, but excruciatingly, he took his time. He expertly lapped at the
length, teasing the triangular region below the slit with his tongue, sliding
his tongue across the phallus in intermittent laps. His soft lips pressed
against the head and down along the side, making his teacher uneasy in his
seat.
"Please... Matthew."
Professor Hubbard begged the kid to continue. It was intense, first-rate.
And when Matthew swallowed the head, his lips moved along the
circumference of the cock, eliciting approving gasps from his teacher. Then
the kid felt a hand on his head, half urging him on, half holding him in place.
"This feels so good Matthew."
With his fingers holding the base of the cock so that it did not slip away, he
moved his lips over the head and took it down completely. He began to bob
his head up and down, down the length and girth, pulling slowly back, and
down again. It was repetitive, intense.
The danger and thrill of it surprised Professor Hubbard. Matthew was his
student, a jock in all respects. The kid played baseball, hung out with the
fraternity crowd, and banged beautiful chicks left and right. And here was
the same kid in his office, during the middle of the day, on his knees giving
him incredible oral pleasure. It was mind blowing.
The agony and stimulation went on like it would never end. However, as
much as he had wanted to maintain the action, Professor Hubbard could not.
Fifteen stimulating minutes got him over the edge, but the climax was by far
the best part. He erupted with an intensity he himself did not expect, and as
his face contorted, he coated Matthew's chest and neck with semen. Out of
breath, he looked down to see the handsome kid looking back at him.
"You don't think this makes me gay, do you?
"Not necessarily Matthew."
Matthew wiped himself clean, and without further discussion, left. No
longer certain of why he came to visit his professor, the kid left more
disturbed than when he came.
* * * * *
Later that night, Matthew's confusion drove him insane. The first time he
gave himself to his professor was out of repayment, but the second time was
much more complicated. It wasn't so much the fact that he sucked another
guy's cock. It was precisely the notion that he was in love with Professor
Hubbard that frightened him the most. For the first time in his life he was in
love, and he didn't know how to react.
Matthew ran into the rain and allowed himself to get lost. He didn't care
where he was going, out into the fields, on the road, only that he was going
away. All he could think of was to get away, as far away as possible, away
from town, away from life. And when he showed up outside Jose's room,
his wet clothes were plastered against his body.
"Matt, are you OK?"
"Do you want to go for a drink?" asked Matthew, almost to the point of
breaking down.
Jose carefully looked Matthew over, reading him and interpreting what was
going on. "Sure, let me get my coat. You need to get in some dry clothes."
"No, I don't."
"You do."
"No," persisted Matthew. He couldn't think. All he wanted was a drink.
"Can we please go for a drink?"
Jose thought for a moment before he asked, "Matt, do you respect me?"
"I do, Jose."
"Then we will go somewhere to talk about your problem. But first, we will
drop by your room to get some clothes."
"Alright," said Matthew, as he gave into Jose's request.
Four hours later, after much drinking and talking on the part of Matthew,
Jose brings him back to bed. He undresses his friend and covers him up,
then leaves for his room.
Matthew had told Jose everything, and although Jose took it seriously, his
jealously was great. He had refrained from touching Matthew precisely
because the kid had assured him that he wasn't interested in the same sex.
Yet Matthew gave his professor a blow job, not once, but twice. And
making out with Alex was unacceptable. It was too much. It was more envy
than he could contain. Jose felt he deserved Matthew more than anyone
else, yet he was at the end of the stick.
* * * * *
Envy is something that is hard to contain. And when it is coupled with
frustration, it magnifies. Jose wanted the kid, the smooth, hard body, the
innocent personality. And yet Matthew gave himself to someone else.
The next evening, when Jose dropped by, Mathew was already in bed. As
usual, he was shirtless with a lounge pant on. He looked up to see his friend.
"Jose, what's up?"
Jose didn't respond. Matthew, nevertheless, continued, "I feel like crap.
I've been in bed the whole day. Thanks for taking care of me last night."
Jose stripped his clothes off, leaving only his boxers on. He wasn't excited,
but Matthew could discern a sizeable bulge. Jose was immense. At the
same time, he had a great body. Tall, dark, he had the smooth glowing skin
to go with it. And he was ripped. Working on the farm had helped to shape
his body in all the right places. Every curve, every undulation of his upper
and lower body came from hard work. Not a 45-minute weight training
regime, but the manual labor of farm life.
In slow motion, Jose did the unexpected. He climbed into bed and forced
himself onto Matthew, bringing his mouth over his friend's. He ignored the
kid's initial resistance. The warm hands on his chest, somewhat pushing
him away, were easily forgotten. He knew what he wanted from the kid, and
he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Not this time.
He was, however, an artful kisser, taking as well as receiving. Swapping
tongues, he maneuvered his way down, taking what he wanted, but trying his
best to give what he could. He tasted the kid. Sucking Matthew's skin into
his lips, he nipped his friend's neck, shoulders, working down the arm.
"Jose, please don't," pleaded Matthew.
Ignoring his friend's cries, he went up to cover the kid's mouth with his.
Taking more and giving more, he wanted to please Matthew, to give life. He
made another passionate plea with his soft but urgent lips. He moved down
again, pressing his tongue against the kid's chest, sucking the left nipple,
moving down to the flat stomach. Exploring Matthew's navel, he spent time
there while his entire body went to work.
Massaging his friend's inner and outer thighs with one hand, he ran his other
hand over the kid's broad chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath.
Undulating his body against the kid's groin, he was intent on stimulating his
friend. Matthew could feel Jose's cock sliding up and down against his
lower body.
Finding the rope, Jose pulled the lounge pants apart, slipping his hands in to
pull it down. Feeling and lapping at the region between Matthew's legs and
cock, he prepared for his finale.
"Jose, I can't," gasped Matthew.
But it was too late. Matthew had been without sex since his father had the
heart attack, and Jose had already latched his mouth to the mound
underneath the kid's pants. Matthew went immediately stiff. He couldn't
think, he couldn't concentrate. Yet he felt Jose pleasure him. And then, all
of a sudden, all he could think of was getting relief.
All he wanted was for the experience to go away. He wasn't terrified, but he
didn't feel right. Jose was his childhood friend, Jose was a stud in the purest
sense. Why was Jose blowing him?
Going up for another well-meant kiss, Jose stopped before his face touched
Matthew's. He looked at the kid staring back at him, trying to read him.
Jose went in for another kiss, giving Matthew a taste of his own cock.
Up and down, down and up, Jose came down upon the kid's cock, like it was
the only thing he ever wanted to do. Matthew tasted great, and Jose's long
attraction for him only intensified the experience. When the kid was ready,
Jose allowed him to cum, all of which he swallowed.
Not since Gordon had sucked him, had Matthew felt so thoroughly relieved.
Jose's skills were a cut above. Yet Jose was his friend. How could this have
happened?
Breathless and wet with sweat, Mathew felt Jose crawl up to lie beside him.
Maintaining plenty of body contact, Jose's incredible cock laid against
Matthew's leg. Flaccid and covered by the thin cotton material of Jose's
underwear, the shaft was warm and huge.
Two naked bodies lay side by side, mouths half open, half shut, panting for
air. Close, yet separate, Jose was also out of breath. But as he recovered,
his mouth moved slightly toward the kid's. His free hand found Matthew's
face and pulled it close to his. Finding his friend's mouth, he gave up air for
another kiss.
Jose sat up, reached to his side, and opened the nearby drawer. He found a
box of condoms. He pulled his boxers completely off, exposing himself
completely. Matthew glanced at his friend and discovered he had guessed
the size correctly. Jose was hung.
Jose unwraps the condom and rolled it on his massive pole. "I'm going to
fuck you." He climbed back into bed. "It's going to be good, I promise,"
promises Jose, as he moved his friend's legs apart.
"I can't do this Jose..." But he couldn't finish his sentence. His friend's
mouth covered his, and Jose's body pressed him down.
Jose's mouth worked the kid. As his hands felt the kid up, his fingers began
to feel between Matthew's legs. Jose expertly maneuvers his cock in place.
Using his free hand, he guided the tip to Matthew's rosebud. He let it linger
there, against the entrance. All the while he continued to passionately make
out with the kid. Matthew was devoured again and again.
Jose directed his erection against and around the entrance, moving it in a
circular motion. Experimenting, tasting, getting it ready for the inevitable.
"I can't, Jose, I can't..." cried Matthew, as he's engulfed by more tongue, by
more weight.
And then it was over, Jose had entered Matthew is a way that was so simple,
so unexpected. His cock got past Matthew's sphincter and slipped all the
way through. Jose continued to taste his friend's mouth, all the while letting
the kid get use to his size.
Sure he was large, but he'd never gotten any complaints. It had more to do
with skill than his good looks. He had gone far. A stud that no girl could
resist. Jose was a lover, and those that received his love, be it man or
women, boy or girl, could not get enough of him.
For Matthew, time stood still for the next 10 minutes. Everything around
him was in motion, except him. It was almost as if his body was frozen in
time. Matthew's body was racked with pain and another kind of intensity.
The strong, rhythmic thrusts from Jose were unending. At times they were
done with great care, at times they were hard and painful, at times they were
more intense than anything he had ever felt.
Jose knew what he was doing. He aimed and hit the right spot each time,
stimulating Matthew from the inside out. The kid's prostrate received plenty
of attention. Too much.
Jose fucked his friend, bringing Matthew near the top. And when the kid
approached it, Matthew reached orgasm without touching himself. Jose was
artful, he knew how to make it pleasurable for Matthew. And when it was
his turn, he pulled out before ejaculating onto the kid's chest and abdominals
instead of inside of him, spraying Matthew with all he had. Breathless, Jose
remained on top of the kid.
"I love you," said Jose, as his lips met the kid once more.
"Please leave."
"I'm sorry, Matt."
"I don't want to see you," answered the Mathew. "Please leave." Tears ran
down Matthew's face. He turned away and buried his mouth into the pillow,
as he cried over the loss of his dignity. Jose was supposed to be a good
friend, yet he did not behave like one. Matthew had been fucked.
Jose had crossed the line and he knew it. Matthew was like a kid brother to
him. Someone who looked up to him and respected him, someone who
wanted to be like Jose. Yet he had taken advantage of the kid in the worse
way. Matthew had protested, yet Jose had ignored it. Like Gordon had,
Jose had wronged Matthew, and he couldn't take it back.
When Jose came back to apologize the next day, Matthew was not around.
He had left early in the morning without giving notice to anyone. Jose
waited for the day to pass by, working especially hard on the farm to rid his
guilt. Yet Matthew was no where to be found. One day passed, then
another, and he had still not come home.
* * * * *
To Be Continued...
jason99usa@yahoo.com